The Untold Truth Leviathan FanFic
by Georgia Shaw
Summary: The Leviathan is headed for Japan on schedule, but not everything is going as Deryn had planned. My version of Goliath. Delayed revelations, ghastly plots, and...a sprinkling of Varlow?  Being rewritten/ fixed/ perfected.  OOH, REVIEWS PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: Hi, people! This is my very first, and I do mean VERY FIRST, fan fiction, so it might be a little awful. Sorry about that. Anyways, I hope you like it, and please leave reviews! (harsh is alright, as long as it is *constructive*. If you're going to be mean, justify it.)**

The Untold Truth (Leviathan Fan Fiction)

Deryn

The _Leviathan_ was drifting serenely over the fertile valleys and rice paddies of China as Deryn and Newkirk worked on the great whale's dorsal. The sun was almost set on their fourth evening since leaving the Ottoman Empire, and they were _still _two days from Japan, yet according to Newkirk, who had heard it from some other daft bumrag, the trip was only supposed to have taken three days.

Deryn tried to ignore Newkirk as he spouted even more blether about never again having the chance to walk on solid ground, but she quickly lost hold of her temper. "_Dummkopf! _If you're so barking desperate to get back on the ground, let me help you!_" _ she made as if to push him off of the side of the ship.

"Watch it!" he cried.

"Mister Sharp! I will not tolerate such childish behaviour from my midshipmen. Go cool your head!" Mr. Rigby ordered.

Deryn obliged, muttering her indignations as she scramble down the ratlines, her back dimly lit by the fading light. Not even the beauty of the sights below could calm her down. She was frustrated with herself, with her situation, knowing she could change nothing. There were so many secrets she carried inside her that she thought she might burst. First there were Alek's; the secret of his heritage, of his position, of his inheritance, even of his secret love for the _Leviathan _itself.

And then, of course, the most pressing were her own secrets.

The voice of Doctor Nora Barlow startled Deryn out of her reverie; "Mister Sharp! I shall require your presence in Count Volger's cabin at twenty-one o'clock sharp! No pun intended."

Fifteen minutes later, Deryn was waiting alone in the room in which the count was being held. Nobody had arrived yet, so she made herself comfortable while she waited, but waiting wasn't very entertaining.

Volger's fencing foil, the one that he had used to threaten her into spilling what she knew about Alek, was leaning against the corner of the fabricated balsa wood walls, gleaming seductively in the candlelight. Deryn's fingers crept of their own volition towards the gorgeously detailed hilt. She wasn't much for fencing, but it was so much more beautiful, and, well, downright posh-looking, than the dull foils she was allowed to practice with.

In her hands, it was perfectly balanced. She swung it about, trying to remember what Alek had painstakingly failed to teach her. The foil cut effortlessly through the air, and, with an audible thud, smashed down on the head of a bemused Austrian prince who had only moments before entered the cabin unnoticed by Deryn.

Alek swore in German, clutching his head with both hands. Red liquid pooled between his fingers.

"Barking spiders, Alek! Don't sneak up on me like that! Here," she moved in close to him and held a wad of cloth to his bleeding forehead.

Alek narrowed his eyes, "is that the cloth Volger uses to clean his foil?"

"Aye," Deryn smiled, "wouldn't want His Princeliness to get blood all over his princely clothing."

He caught her wrist, the one that was holding the cloth to his wound, in one of his strong hands, and pulled it down. "Dylan?" he asked softly, "Before the others get here, did you want to tell me what you were going to earlier? You said it was a secret."

Deryn stared into Alek's deep green eyes, and she couldn't seem to look away. Everything else in the world came to a standstill; it was just the two of them. Alek leaned a little closer to her.

"Yes," she whispered. In response to what, she didn't have a barking clue.

Even closer he leaned, till their breath was intermingling, and all she could smell-hear-sense was Alek, Alek, Alek. Their lips touched, very gently, then a little more firmly. Electricity ran a relay race up and down her spine. Suddenly, it was if all of her worries and insecurities vanished and her future was perfectly laid out in front of her.

After what could have been an eternity, or maybe just a moment, Alek jumped as if waking from a dream and pulled away, looking completely shocked.

"I—I-I'm…. sorry, I have no…idea what came over me" he stuttered, looking completely, hopelessly adorable, and maybe a little terrified. Deryn felt her heart melt. It didn't even matter that Alek still didn't know about her.

Abandoning all rational thought, Deryn grabbed the front of Alek's shirt and crushed their mouths together. He seemed to struggle against her for a brief moment, but soon returned her kiss with equal passion. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her tight against him, and her arms reached up and twined around his neck, fingers combing through his soft hair.

Alek's tongue swept across her lip, demanding entry—

"Alek! Dylan!" cried Doctor Barlow from the opened cabin door. Klopp and Bauer were standing behind her, eyes bugging, preceded by Volger, who didn't seem to know whether to be amused or disapproving.

"_Junge Meister…" _gasped Klopp, horrified.

Alek looked as if his entire world was collapsing on him.

**Don't forget to review! Oh, and should I keep going? **

***(Shhh, my sister wrote this alternate ending below)**

Dylan pressed the cloth in her hand more firmly to his head, but he smacked at his hand, annoyed and in pain, causing Dylan to stumble back in surprise, and trip over something behind him. Alek made to grab him, but his quick hands only grazed Dylan's waist as he toppled down on top of him.

"Oof!"

There was a sharp intake of breath from beneath him, his hand had landed on something quite soft, but in his disorientation he wasn't able to pinpoint what it was. He tried to get up, but his legs were tangled in some form of cord. He and Dylan struggled some more, Dylan more than himself, but after a while he gave up, it was only making the cords tighter and he feared he might lose circulation in his legs before someone could help them if they continued struggling.

Alek sighed and collapsed onto Dylan, slightly out of breath from his futile attempt [at] freedom, his face resting on his chest. Dylan's heart rate was erratic; he could feel it through his clothes, what now seemed a flimsy cloth, and his chest was so soft. He found himself wanting to feel more…. Alek's head snapped up, burning with embarrassment, he held himself up at full arms length, his eyes darting about, searching for something to focus on other than the large and warm brown eyes that awaited beneath him.

After ten minutes, he had found a target on which to focus his gaze, the door. But sweat was beading on his brow and he found himself wanting nothing more than to relax his arms and sink back down. But he couldn't! Dylan [was] a boy, and such stirrings in his heart were not for prince's to bear.

Five more minutes and his arms betrayed and crumpled beneath him, quivering slightly with exhaustion; his face once more buried in Dylan's chest. There was no obvious reaction to this, so he glanced up only to find Dylan had fallen asleep. He laughed soundlessly and laid a kiss on his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. Hi again! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! THEY MADE MY MONTH! :D Watch out, though. There's probably a lot of mistakes in this, because I was too tired to reread it... oh well! **

**Since I forgot this in the last chapter, ehem;**

**DISCLAIMER: I AM OBVIOUSLY NOT MR.  SCOTT WESTERFELD, BECAUSE IF I WERE, ALEK AND DERYN WOULD'VE BEEN A LITTLE MORE, WELL, "BUSY" BY NOW! SO THERE.**

Chapter 2. (short Barlow POV.)

"Both history and science have proven that it is perfectly natural for such urges to plague a portion of many species', including humans, as you very well know. I believe it is merely a way that "mother nature" controls the population of the species whilst the population of predators is small. Really," she smiled, "there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

Dylan fidgeted, "may I leave now, ma'am?"

Doctor Barlow sighed. The poor boy seemed to be suffering terribly. "Only if you take Tazza for a walk; he's been bouncing up the walls all morning."

He grumbled something unintelligible and grabbed Tazza's leash.

The moment he was no longer in sight, Dr. Barlow marched resolutely and purposefully to Volger's cabin. She glared down the guard before she even reached the door, which she swung open forcefully.

Volger glanced up from his book, unsurprised.

"What are we going to do about them?" she asked, aware of her complete about-face.

"Who?"

"Don't be foolish, you know who I mean."

Volger lifted a brow in amusement. "Alek and…Dylan?"

"Yes, Count Volger; _Prince_ Aleksander and _Midshipman_ Sharp, " Doctor Barlow huffed, an uncharacteristic pout growing unbeknownst to her on her lips. Volger hadn't, she remembered, reacted a great deal yesterday upon the discovery of his charge and Mr. Sharp either.

_Volger had been holding back a laugh. _

_Bauer and Klopp had both looked equally sick to the stomach, seemed to have been fighting back either bile or sobs- there had been really no way to tell. _

_Doctor Barlow herself hadn't known quite how to react. _

_And the culprits themselves, still tangled together on the floor, looked most confused of all. _

_The groups had stared at each other in shock for a long time, mouths agape, eyes like saucers, and complexions ranging from the most ashen of whites, to the deepest rubicund. _

_Wide-eyed, the Prince turned to Dylan, seemingly to gauge his reaction as well. But as their noses brushed, Alek jumped a good metre away—the first real movement in the room breaking the statue-theme- having apparently forgotten, and been surprised by, just how close they had been. _

"_Wh-wh-wha-God's wounds! Dylan, you kissed me!" _

_ Dylan had turned red. "You kissed me first! So don't go laying all of the blame on me!" he shouted. _

_ Doctor Barlow raised an eyebrow._

_ She had long ago noticed how Dylan's voice rose in pitch when he was stressed, but this jump, she thought, had to have been an octave and a half higher than she'd thought possible of a boy his age. _

_ Someone cleared their throat. _

"_Why don't we pretend, at least for now, that nothing happened?" Count Volger smiled benevolently at the confused boys. _

_Alex sucked in a terrified breath, and stared at Volger in shock. Doctor Barlow could imagine what he was thinking, because she was thinking along very similar lines herself. She had expected nothing less than shouting, and perhaps a severe thrashing from Volger. After a moment, the Prince nodded, and the young Midshipman eagerly followed suit. _

The count knows something more_, she had mused. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took so long again-I'm a lazy writer :P It seems to me like the chapters are slowly getting smaller and smaller... this is the last chapter of the Barlow POV, next is Alek or Deryn. And sometime in the near future a certain much-missed Coxswain Sharp will appear. Reviews are very welcome...and hey! they might make me write faster! *hint hint* and thank you all very much for the comments on the other chapters! they made me very happy. :D If you have any ideas of what you'd like to happen in the future of this story, I'd be very happy to mesh it in somewhere (if it works). **

**Anyways, I hope you like it! **

Chapter 3 (Still Barlow)

_They had all sat down around the plain fabricated balsa wood desk on loan to Count Volger from the ship's captain. There weren't quite enough chairs present, so Doctor Barlow, being the only woman present, was allowed one of the only two chairs while Volger gestured derisively for the pale prince to sit in the other. He complied, too much in shock to look annoyed. Rather, he sat on the very edge of his seat, nervously wringing his hands. The rest of the men sat on the bed or on the various crates scattered round the room. _

_Much to everyone's surprise, Volger began—in German- with: "About Japan, I think our remaining aboard the _Leviathan _would be expedient." _

_Doctor Barlow translated for Dylan._

_There was a moment of silence after which Dylan could be heard breathing a sigh of relief. "But sir," he complained unconvincingly, his voice a little gruffer than habitually, "what about the First Lord of the Admiralty? He won't let you go so barking easily now that he's got you in. Japan is the only place we're setting down before England—you won't have another chance."_

_Klopp's eyes jumped from Dylan to Aleksander surreptitiously, "In my opinion, getting off of this godless whale _as soon as possible_ is the right way to go."_

_Prince Aleksander returning glare was worthy of his station—frigid. "Insinuations, Klopp, in _my _opinion, are best left to those who know what they are talking about," he retorted. _

"_Yes, sir" said Klopp stonily. _

_Dylan looked terribly confused. _

_ "But do _you_ understand what happened, Aleksandar?" asked count Volger. _

_ The prince stared at his shoes. "No."_

_Volger chuckled. _

Presently, Volger answered Doctor Barlow's query. "There is nothing we can or should bother do. I promise you, you needn't worry about your precious _Mister_ Sharp, just as I shan't worry about Aleksander. Was it not you who said that things such as these were perfectly natural?"

Doctor Barlow was aghast. "How did you know about that?" For the first time she had met her match. Or worse.

Volger abruptly changed the topic, seemingly, "I think I am beginning to appreciate, if not have any fondness for, these horrible lizard-like fabrications." He looked at her meaningfully.

Doctor Barlow narrowed her eyes at a passing message lizard, "They shouldn't pass along full conversations without having been instructed to do so."

Volger smiled sardonically, "They are your 'creations', Nora."

Doctor Barlow could practically hear the quotation marks, as well as their connotations, in his words, and she knew she should be at least a little miffed at his tone. But she wasn't. She couldn't be, busy as she was trying to hide the redness that crept inexplicably up her neck to simmer on the apples of her cheeks at Volger's casual use of her given name.

Aware that she was being rude, but hardly caring, she said: "Goodbye, Count."

**And there we go; a non-cliff hanger. Sorta. **

**HEHE, REVIEW, I TELL YOU! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hiya, people! Sorry it took so long...again. In my defense, I had finals to study for! I offer cheese in apology. But now it's Spring break so I will *probably* get more done, I hope. This chapter is short, but it's a turning point in the story. Thank you in advance for the reviews! :) **

**Anyways-Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer (though they are highly redundant on a website dedicated to _FanFiction_**_**): **_

**My father and I were sitting in a canoe on a lake known for its plentifulness, clutching our fishing poles.**

**"I'm hoping to make a feast of the biggest salmon in this lake tonight. What are you fishing for?" asked my father.**

**"Me? I'm fishing for the rights to Scott Westerfeld's _Leviathan _trilogy," I replied. **

**"Any luck?"**

**"None whatsoever."**

**Ergo: I do not own _Leviathan. _So there. **

Chapter 4 (Alek Pov)

_Disgusting. _

His lips tingled with the shadow of a touch, the ghost of a foreign warmth.

Disgusting.

His body was cold. Alone. It mourned the loss of those arms wrapped around him.

Alek banged his head against the wall of the engine room, eyes squeezed shut and face contorted, as if he were trying to hide inside himself.

"Your Highness?" Klopp was looking at him worriedly.

"It's nothing, Klopp. Get back to work."

His shift over, Alek went to find himself something to eat in the mess. The place was crowded. Food in hand, he manoeuvred himself cautiously about the tables, looking for an empty seat; there were none—until his eyes fell upon one…at the table at which Dylan Sharp, Mr. Newkirk, and Mr. Rigby sat.

Prince Aleksandar gulped at this daunting turn of events. He placed himself surreptitiously in the seat next to Dylan and began eating his hodgepodge airman's meal without meeting any eyes. Unfortunately, the awkwardness in the air was palpable. Mr. Rigby and Mr. Newkirk weren't, as far as Alek knew, aware of the events that had transpired hardly a week ago, but they had noticed that the captive Prince Aleksander of Hohenberg and his friend the Midshipman Sharp were no longer on speaking terms.

Sneaking a glimpse at Dylan's fine visage, Alek noticed that the boy was growing increasingly paler and that his lush lips were losing there rosy tinge—it worried him. Both that Dylan appeared ill, and that he had thought that the other boy's lips were _lush._ Heat crept up his neck, warming his face and reddening his ears. Suddenly the gruel in his bowl was a lot less appealing to his convulsing stomach.

Neither spoke to the other throughout the meal, though Mr. Newkirk spoke to him briefly—solely was Alek's good upbringing to thank that he responded at all.

Finally, the last crumb gone, he bid a perfunctory _adieu _to the soldiers and made a hasty retreat. He was almost to the hall when he heard the telltale scraping of a chair on floor—though he'd thought nothing of it at the time—and a resolute hand on his shoulder. He knew, without looking, who it was.

"Blisters, Alek, we can't avoid each other forever, as much as that seems more…desirable than speaking."

Alek sighed, but didn't face his friend to say: "You're right. We do need to discuss an alternative. But first, would you please remove your hand from my shoulder?" His heart beat a rhythm so erratic with the boy's delicate hand resting atop his shoulder, softly brushing the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck- a hand that demanded the attention of every single nerve in his body- that Alek was afraid Dylan could feel it.

Alek could hear the wry smile in the boy's voice. "Sorry. Let's go to my cabin," said Dylan.

Then the klaxon went off.

**Muhahaha! Cliff hanger! I've always wanted to do one of those! **


	5. Chapter 5

***A/N: I'm sorry about this chapter. Really. It's terrible. I had a very hard time writing it for some reason. If you see any thing horribly, or even just a little, wrong, please comment. :( **

**Thank you very much for all of the reviews so far. They made me really happy! **

**AND! I promise after the next chapter, everything will be smooth sailing (writing-wise) so the updates will hopefully be quicker. The next chapter is also the last battle seen, I'm pretty sure, so after that we can get back to the good stuff. :)***

Chapter 5 (Deryn POV)

Deryn looked up exasperatedly, and muttered: "I'm not _supposed_ to tell him, is that it?"

"Pardon?" asked Alek, looking terribly confused and straining to hear her over the deafening screeching of the klaxon. But the melancholy in his eyes was gone, as was the subtle flaccidness to his otherwise noble posture. That, at least, was something to be happy about.

"I ought to escort you back to the engine room before I report back to Mister Rigby." She grabbed his arm to hurry him along. Men and beast scurried about busily in every direction she looked; she likened it to living in an anthill during rain season.

"What's going on, Dylan!" shouted Alek.

"We're under attack!"

"Germans!"

"Most likely!"

"There must be something we can do to help!" Alek cried.

"Yes, there is! And that's getting your mangy bottom to the engine room!" Deryn tugged Alek a little faster, a little more frantically than she would've liked. She could feel the rumbling of the giant airbeast as it withstood the attacks.

"But—"

"No!" Any other time, Deryn would've felt horrible seeing Alek appear so downtrodden, she would have felt his pain as her own. This time she only had the time for a squick of empathy before her mind had to race back to the situation at hand.

Suddenly the floor beneath them lurched viciously to one side, resulting in Deryn losing her grip on her captive. He bolted away, his smaller form weaving with more ease than Deryn's tall, albeit thin one through the crowds of racing soldiers. She swore. "ALEK! STOP!"

Alek ran until he reached the Huxley hangar, where there was a large opening in the side of the whale from which the Huxleys could be dispatched with scouts. He watched the battle anxiously from the opening, one hand clutching a long rigger's knife, the other holding a huxley's harness in a white-knuckled grip. His usually disgust of the creatures was absent, and he seemed to be bracing himself for something.

"ALEKSANDAR! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Deryn yelled angrily.

He looked at her, wild eyed, wrapped both arms and legs around the harness—still holding the knife—and was carried into battle.

***As usual, reviews are always highly addicting. Please help my fix?***


	6. Chapter 6

Hi guys,

I know I'm not technically supposed to be doing this, but...I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted a chapter, but I promise I haven't given up on this story. I was going to finish it during the Summer, but there were some...complications and I wasn't abled to. First my laptop was broken and it had to be sent in for repairs (for a hefty sum), and then my Grandmother was hospitalized and I spent most of my time there. Before I knew it, the summer was over and done with. Now that school's started again I should have more opportunities to catch up on it.

And rewrite it. :P It won't be a _total_ rewrite, more of a pick and choose, sifting through of it, so it shouldn't take _too _long. I really don't feel that this story was written to my full potential, and that kind of bugs me. The plot is finished in my head, but the story turned out weird and the characters kept getting away from me.

I mean, seriously, what the _hell_ was Alek _thinking_ in the last chapter?

-Georgia


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